Head Games
by Awahili
Summary: When Murphy is attacked by a creature that feeds on memories and dreams, Dresden has to venture in and try to sift through her mind in order to get it out. In doing so, he learns a little more about the woman who has become his best friend, and little about himself as well. Not-AU.


This is my first foray into the Dresden-verse. I devoured all fourteen novels in three weeks (don't look at me like that), and couldn't stop the flow of ideas that I got. So I've been jotting them down. Just a couple of notes:

1) This takes place sometime after White Night but before Small Favor. Think of it as a missing Side Job...

2) The age difference I've inferred from the books between Karrin and her younger sister simply doesn't work. If Karrin is supposed to be early thirties in Storm Front, then even going with 30 would make her 33 in Blood Rites, where Lisa is just 20 ("underage for beer until next month"). If Collin Murphy died when Karrin was 11, then either Lisa is not Karrin's full-blood sister, or there's a goof somewhere. If it's me, then please point it out. But for the purposes of this story, I'm going to fudge the age difference a bit.

3) Please review at the bottom and let me know how I'm doing. I have several other fics in the works, but I wanted to get this one out there to test the waters. I also have a few that fit into the TV-verse, as well, so lookout for those (maybe).

* * *

I stepped onto the platform at Union Station and took a deep breath. I hated traveling, especially for Warden business, and coming home felt like...well, like coming home. Despite the terror and destruction I'd faced just about every other week, there was nowhere else I'd rather be. I thought about my quiet apartment, empty now that Thomas had moved out and Molly was on vacation with her family. The next few days would be peaceful (or at least as close as I usually managed). I took a few steadying breaths as I waited for the nausea to die down. Train travel didn't always agree with me, and the ride from Dallas was fairly long. Still, setting up a Warden there fell under my responsibilities as Regional Commander, and he was at least as competent as the one I'd set up in Atlanta last year.

I collected my rolling bag with my left hand, gloved as much for warmth as for aesthetics. It was still horribly scarred from a battle with a scourge of Black Court vampires, though thanks to Butters and his regimen of physical therapy it had regained a lot of its function. In my right I held my staff – er, walking stick. It had been a hassle to get the nice folks to allow me to carry it on the train, unwilling as I was to stow it in the luggage compartment. Call me crazy, but with the likelihood of some paranormal nastiness going down I much rather preferred to keep it on me.

I made my way through the crowd toward the door where my half-brother, Thomas, would be waiting. I expected him to be sitting behind the steering wheel of his new deluxe Hummer with shades on and smiling seductively at the passersby. Don't get me wrong, I don't have anything against Thomas, but he gives an entirely new definition to the term "predatory smile." Being a White Court vampire gave him the ability to make women (and some men) want to rip their clothes off around him. Thankfully he kept that mojo under wraps most of the time, but I'd seen him in action.

The moment I hit the pavement Thomas was there, frantic and fidgety. It made me halt in my tracks, causing the older woman behind me to crash into my back. I shot an apology over my shoulder even as Thomas darted to me.

"Thank the night," he breathed. "We have to go now." He reached behind me and heaved my suitcase up like it weighed nothing.

"What's the rush?" I half joked. I was ready to take a shower, unpack, and go collect Mouse from Murphy's house. I was not ready to deal with one of Thomas' "crises."

"Something happened," he pitched his voice low, and I knew immediately it was something from my side of the street. Being the only professional wizard in the book, I had collected a fair amount of business - both good and bad. He dumped my suitcase into the back of his Hummer and dashed around to the driver's seat. He'd left the engine running, and I hadn't even buckled in before he peeled out and took off.

"Thomas, what's going on?"

"Something came across the border last night," he said. "Something bad. Karrin called me because you weren't available, and we went out." Okay, now my stomach felt like it was trying to compress into a one-inch square; things from the Nevernever were hardly ever pleasant, and anything that rattled Thomas had probably done a number on SI.

"Anyone hurt?" Thomas glanced sidelong at me, and I knew he understood my question. Was Murphy okay?

"No injuries," he answered cryptically. "What do you know about the Eater?"

Nothing good," I answered. "You're not telling me something. I can tell by the way you haven't looked me in the eye since I got back."

"I'm driving, Harry. Gotta keep my eyes on the road."

"Thomas." There was a note of warning in my voice, and I saw him gulp visibly.

"Harry, listen. We need you clear-headed for this one. I'm not sure how much good you'll be –"

"Thomas!" I snapped, and my stomach suddenly ballooned up and dropped down into my feet as his eyes paled sadly.

"Karrin stepped into its path."

I let out a harsh curse that made Thomas flinch, and I felt the Hummer accelerate. Something had attacked my town – my friend – while I was gone. While I could do nothing to stop it. I was calling Luccio tomorrow and getting her to assign another Warden to my position.

Thomas screeched to a halt outside Murphy's home, and I was out of the car before he'd stopped completely. I ignored the threshold and the pull on my powers as I barreled through it. I wouldn't be able to do a lot until she invited me in officially, but that was a low priority right now.

The house was empty, and I took long strides toward her bedroom. I opened the door and was met sharply by a two hundred pound barrier that growled and checked my forward momentum. My dog, Mouse, was apparently guarding Murphy, and my heart hammered as I realized the implications. If Mouse thought Murphy was so bad that she couldn't protect herself then I was in trouble.

I patted Mouse on the head quickly, letting him know he'd done a good job. He gave my hand a quick lick and resumed his vigil of the doorway as I stepped quietly over to the bed. Murphy had a queen-sized bed that she'd inherited from her grandmother along with the rest of the house. I'd often joked that she could trade it out for a twin to give her more space to practice her martial arts, and it would probably be more her size. She usually answered the jibe with a quick elbow to my ribs and a smile. All thoughts of jokes were far from my mind right now, though, as I crept closer to the prone figure.

Karrin Murphy lay under the covers, and may have well been sleeping except for one detail. Her blue eyes were open. I stopped breathing for a moment, exhaling only when I heard her take a soft breath. She was alive. I sank down onto the bed and reached for her hand. It was cold.

"Murph?" I whispered, but there was no answer. I hadn't really expected one, but I had to try. I felt rather than saw Thomas standing in the doorway, and he kept his voice low despite the unlikelihood of waking Murphy.

"She hasn't responded since the attack. I brought her here and made her comfortable. Rawlins and a couple of the other guys have been by, but no one else." I nodded to let him know I'd heard, but my eyes never left her face. If it weren't for the steady rise and fall of her chest, I wouldn't even know she was alive. Her blank stare was unwavering and unfocused, and even as I passed my hand in front of them there was no reaction.

"What about the thing that did this to her?"

"Gone," Thomas sighed. "She jumped into its path and it...encompassed her. Two, maybe three seconds later it just vanished."

"You get a good look at it?" I asked, and Thomas made some sort of noise that I took for a no. I stood then, squeezing her cold hand with my warmer one. I hesitated a second before leaning over and kissing her forehead. "I'll find out what did this, Murph. I'll fix it. I promise." I rose completely, turning away from the nightmare with only a little difficulty. "Stay, Mouse," I told the behemoth at the door. He'd make sure no one disturbed her, human or otherwise. "Come on, Thomas."

"Where are we going?" he asked, matching stride with me easily. We climbed back into his Hummer and he started the engine.

"My place, to find some answers."

I had expected to feel a sense of relief as I walked through my front door but, as usual, circumstances had conspired against me. Mister, my thirty pound tomcat, threw himself at my shins in his usual greeting. Normally I'd stop and let him assault my legs for a few seconds as was his custom, but I didn't have time. He meowed pathetically as I stepped over him and made straight for the trapdoor in the floor.

I couldn't remember if Thomas had ever been in my lab, but it didn't seem to bother him as I gave him a silent request to stay in the main room. There were shelves everywhere containing various ingredients for potions and spells. One wooden shelf was set apart from the rest, covered in novels and candlewax. A human skull was sitting atop an open book, and even as I used a simple spell to light the candles scattered around the room the eyes of the skull began glowing orange.

"Welcome back, boss!" Bob's voice floated out, and I bit back a sharp retort. Snapping at my friends wouldn't help Murphy, and Bob didn't know what was going on. So I filled him in. He let out a low whistle despite not having lips.

"The Eater isn't a small-time player, Harry. He's one of the Wyldfae."

Great, Wyldfae. That meant that whatever he was doing, it wasn't a part of the ongoing, never-ending struggle between the Summer and Winter courts. Wyldfae could do whatever they wanted, provided they were strong enough to back it up.

"How do we kill it?"

"Well, you're not gonna like the easy way," Bob said quietly.

"Killing Murphy is not an option," I growled, and Bob's skull slid back a few inches.

"Hey, I said you weren't gonna like it."

"So what's the hard way?"

"Well," Bob somehow gave the impression of scratching the back of his head, "that is also something you're not going to like."

"Bob!" I was really tired of playing guessing games, and I'd been back for less than an hour. Why did everyone think they needed to tiptoe around me? Just because I became wholly irrational when my friends were in danger didn't mean I was going to blow my top. It just meant that whenever I met the bad guy, things would get explosive. Probably literally.

"Alright, no need to be pushy," Bob sighed. "Someone," he looked at me pointedly, "is going to have to go in there and get him out."

"Alright, so I need to – wait, go in where?"

"Into her head, of course. Where else would the Eater be?" There had been many times since I'd acquired Bob that he'd been flippant and vague with me, but for some reason it was grating on my nerves more than usual today. _Gee, Dresden, I wonder why that is?_

"Shut up," I whispered harshly.

"What wasthat, boss?"

"Never mind. Okay, tell me everything you know about this guy."

"The Eater – don't ask me his actual name, because I don't know it – is a creature of serious power. He's as old as anything, probably one of the original Wyldfae. He feeds off the dreams and memories of unconscious souls, so –"

"Wait, a sec," I barked. "This thing just feeds on everyone all the time? You think someone would have noticed..."

"Look, which one of us is a silly wizard and which a being of intellect?" He paused for a beat, then continued. "Thought so. Like I said, this thing feeds from everyone all the time. It's always happened. No one notices because they don't know any better."

"Right, okay," I rubbed my eyes in exhaustion and made a motion with my other hand for him to continue.

"Okay, let me ask a question," Bob swiveled to face me as I paced around to the other side of the work table. "How sharp is your memory of the events of yesterday?"

"What does that have to do with –"

"Just answer. Can you remember it clearly?"

"Yes, I can."

"Alright, last week on Tuesday, what did you have for dinner?"

I paused for a moment, then sighed. "We had pizza at Billy's."

"Last year, any memory."

"Uh...there was that whole White Court thing that's sort of hard to forget." I shuddered at the memory that washed over me and shook it off.

"Alright, how about a less potent memory? Anything at all mundane from last year that you can remember? Or the year before that? How about ten years ago? Is your memory of those events just as sharp as the ones from yesterday?"

"Wait, so you're saying that the reason our memory fades with time is because of a fairy?"

"Stupid but brave, boss. Don't call him that to his face." Bob turned again as I stalked back toward the ladder. "It's not just memories. How many times have you had a really good dream, then woke up and can't recall a single detail?"

"The Eater?"

"Got it in one!" Bob exclaimed, and I had the impression he'd be pointing a finger at me if he had one. "Good thing, too. The human brain isn't really capable of operating on that level. You'd go insane by the time you were ten years old."

I pinched the bridge of my nose and took a steadying breath. "Alright, that's enough of Wyldfae 101. We need to figure out why it attacked Murphy."

"It attacked her specifically?"

"Well...no, I don't think so. According to Thomas, SI was tipped off and responded, and Murphy called Thomas because I wasn't available."

"So is he like your detective apprentice now, boss? Because I gotta say I don't really admire your taste."

"No, but I'm glad she called him. Thomas is stronger than most of the stuff out there. If there's anyone I want watching SI's back while I'm away, he's it." I was almost as surprised as Bob at the words I'd just said, but that didn't make them any less true. Thomas was my brother, and a damn good fighter to boot. He knew the ins and outs of the supernatural world as well as I did, and he'd saved my hide a few times. I just didn't dare tell him that to his face. He'd never let me live it down.

"Didn't know you cared," his crisp voice floated down the trap door and I groaned.

"Didn't anyone tell you it was impolite to eavesdrop?"

"Never stops you," he shot back with a grin. "Can I come down?"

"No." I'd said it at the same time Bob had, but I shot a quick glare at the skull to stay silent. "Look, can you let Mister out and fill his food bowl?" Thomas just grinned back and nodded, unfazed by my refusal. When he was gone, I reached up and closed the trapdoor easily before turning back to Bob.

"Okay, so you said the only way to beat this thing would be to go inside Murphy's head?"

"That's right. It's probably hunkered down somewhere in her subconscious and is feeding pretty heartily on her memories and dreams."

I let out a curse and kicked at the work table. It hurt, but I didn't let Bob see it. "So my options are to violate the Fourth Law of Magic and go into her mind, or do nothing and let her die."

"Oh she won't die, boss." It could have been my imagination, but it sounded like Bob was sad. "Her body will continue to live; it's not affecting her physical self. It's just eating everything that makes her Murphy."

"Okay that's...worse," I whispered.

"Well, look at the bright side. If the Council catches you, you won't have to worry about Murphy anymore." Bob spun back to his novel as I glared at him.

"That is not surprisingly unhelpful, Bob." I leaned against the work table with both hands and hung my head, taking deep breaths to clear my thoughts. I know what I wanted to do, but charging into Murphy's mind would take finesse and subtlety; two things that were conspicuously absent from my repertoire. But if I didn't try – if I did nothing – then Murphy would be lost. I took one last deep breath and made my decision.

"Bob, I need a crash course in mind magic."

An hour later I hurried up the ladder and found Thomas dozing on the couch. I only had the one bedroom, and when he'd been staying with me he'd sort of taken over the sofa. I shook his shoulder and he opened his eyes sharply, not a hint of grogginess in them. I guess growing up in the Vampire Court of the White King had taught him to be on guard at all times.

I need you to go get Murphy," I told him. "I can't do anything inside her home without an invitation, and I won't be getting one from her any time soon."

"What are you going to do?" Thomas asked, shrugging on his leather jacket even as he asked.

"Something stupid and dangerous. What else?" I shot back. "Don't come back for an hour. I'll be in the shower when you get back. Put Murphy on my bed and close the door. I need zero interruptions. This is going to be difficult enough without having to prepare a ritual more than once." Thomas nodded his understanding and walked out the door. I made sure it was locked behind him and went to my room.

My bedroom is smaller than most people's closets, but it served its purpose well enough. There was an extra-long double bed against one wall, a small five-drawer dresser next to it, and a rug that covered most of the floor space. The tiny closet opposite the bed held all of my clothes, including my wizard robes and a three piece suit that I hadn't worn in many years. To the right was the bathroom, and I shivered in anticipation of the cold shower that I'd need to take to cleanse myself for the ritual.

I set to the task of tidying the room, then I pulled the rug out into the living room. Once I had enough space, I maneuvered my bed and dresser until the latter was completely shoved into one corner and the bed was sitting in the center of the room. I changed the sheets and tossed the old ones behind the couch in the main room before kneeling on the small space between my bed and the bathroom.

It took me almost half an hour to clear my mind, but I finally managed to banish all the doubts and fears that were creeping in. In the end, the only thing that mattered was the thought that Murphy needed me and I was the only one who could help her. That alone was enough for my mind to kick itself into gear. Once I felt prepared enough, I drew a chalk circle all the way around the bed. I didn't close it, but I made sure it was visible enough so Thomas didn't smudge it when he brought Murphy in. When that was done, I pulled clean clothes out of the closet and infused them with as much cleansing power as I could manage before laying them on the bathroom counter.

Preparing a ritual is probably one of the most tedious and arduous tasks a wizard can complete. It requires complete focus of the mind and will for the singular purpose of the ritual, and absolute concentration on the desired outcome. The slightest disturbance or disruption would mean a fresh start from the beginning, and I wasn't sure Murphy had that much time. But I couldn't rush anything, and every movement I made was purposeful and determined. I undressed slowly, envisioning the outcome clearly in my mind. I spent nearly half an hour under the cold spray, but I didn't feel cold when I stepped out of the shower. I felt alive, invigorated, and clear-headed. I dressed in the clean clothes I'd laid out – soft cotton pajama bottoms Murphy had gotten me one Halloween and my oldest t-shirt. It was black with a faded TIE fighter on the front, and as I slipped it overmy head I felt completely relaxed.

Murphy was lying on the bed when I came out. Thomas had left the blanket folded at the foot of the bed, and I nodded a silent, unseen thank you to my brother. He understood the importance of even the smallest tasks in a ritual, and it looked like he'd done all he could not to taint the area. I carefully unfolded the wool cover and draped it over my friend's sleeping form. Her eyes were still open, the blue of her irises empty and cold. I drew in a deep breath along with every ounce of my will, snapping the circle around the bed closed with barely more than a thought.

I laid down on my left side next to her, gripping her right hand in my left. I'd had to leave the glove off for the ritual, and though the symbol of Lasciel had disappeared from my skin, it was still disfigured and scarred from the fire. It didn't matter though, I thought as I gripped her cold fingers. Energy enters the body through the left and leaves through the right. I was connecting us like a pair of batteries in circuit, fueling the ritual with the combined power in our bodies. I let my right hand fall to her forehead, struggling against the awkward position that crushed my left arm beneath my body. My right arm rested across her upper chest, careful not to constrict her airway. My head fell against the mound of pillows I'd arranged for that purpose, so I could still look down at her without straining my neck. I spread my right hand over her face, my thumb just to the side of her chin, my forefinger on her cheek just below her eye, and my middle finger pressed against her temple. I took several deep breaths before I closed my eyes and pushed my will forward into her mind. As I did so, I recited the only ritual words I'd ever heard for what I was trying to do.

"My mind to your mind. My thoughts to your thoughts." Hey, I don't mess with the classics. If it worked for pointy-eared aliens, then it would work for human wizards. The important part was that I believed it would work, and I poured all of my belief and will into the simple phrase. I repeated it a few times, concentrating completely on what I wanted to do.

I'd never been part of a Vulcan mind meld, but I had been a participant in several soulgazes before, most with not-so-nice outcomes. But there had to be true eye contact for that; both parties had to be consciously looking into each other's eyes and at least one of them had to be a wizard. This was nothing like that. I felt myself falling and resisted the urge to reach out and catch myself. I was vaguely aware of my body relaxing into the bed, and I could feel the soft sheets under my body. I could feel the coolness of my basement apartment, but my other senses were overwhelmed by a multitude of stimuli. Horns blared, voices shouted, laughed, cried. Lights flashed, faces passed me smiling and scowling and everything in between. A million different aromas passed my nostrils and could feel my mouth watering at some and gagging at others. I realized I was experiencing everything Murphy had ever experienced; only I was doing it all at once. I was also doing it backwards.

When the cacophony died down and the entire universe stopped spinning, I was standing in a kitchen. I recognized it immediately, though the décor was vastly different from the last time I'd been there. For one, Murphy had never owned an avocado refrigerator in her life. For two, the woman sitting at the table was twenty years younger than the woman I'd met at the Murphy family reunion, though her features had remained largely unchanged.

"Mrs. Murphy?" I took a step forward...and was completely ignored as two children barrelled through me. Literally. It was as if I was a ghost, and my body sort of whooshed as the children passed through it. It was a strange sensation.

The first child was a boy of about five. He had straight blonde hair in a bowl cut that flew out behind him as he ran and gangly legs that hinted at a recent growth spurt. He was also screaming, though whether he was laughing or crying I couldn't tell.

The second child was only a few inches taller, but her face held the wisdom of more years. Blonde hair, like her brother's, cut short and pulled away from a scowling face. I knew that scowl. I'd been on the receiving end of that scowl more than once.

"Mom! Patrick stole my watch!"

"Karrin hit me!" Patrick had skidded to a stop behind the Murphy matron, using her as a human shield to escape his sister's wrath. At his own words, he thrust his arm into his mother's vision, showing off a darkening bruise on his upper arm.

"Karrin," Mama Murphy chided, and the eldest Murphy daughter sighed in exasperation.

"He still has my watch," Karrin pointed out the black sport band on the younger boy's arm.

"He's probably just looking at it," Mrs. Murphy replied. "I'm sure he'll give it back when he's done."

"But he didn't ask! I always get yelled at for touching his things without asking!" Karrin's arms were now crossed over her chest in indignation, and I had to stifle a laugh. It was clear that this was an ongoing battle between Murphy and her brother. I remembered her confrontation with her younger sister at the Murphy family reunion, and realized that it hadn't just been poor judgement on Lisa's part. Murphy and her siblings had been feuding for over twenty years.

I thought about what it would have been like to grow up with a sibling. Thomas and I got along fairly well, all things considered. But what if we'd been raised together? Would we have been at each other's throats like the Murphy girls? Would our mother have favored me over him, simply because I had been born second? I didn't pretend to understand family dynamics, and I probably never would, but it didn't stop me from wondering.

I never heard the resolution of the great watch debate, and I reached out to steady myself against the wall as the room spun around sickeningly. It was like getting a head rush while drunk, and I curled my fingers against the wall to steady myself. When I could trust my legs again (or at least the mental representation of my legs), I let go of the wall and looked around. I was still in the Murphy kitchen, though the darkness through the window told me it was night time. The door bell sounded through the house, and I walked to the living room as Mrs. Murphy - older now with longer hair and a fuller frame - came out of the master bedroom. The clock on the wall chimed eleven, and I watched as Murphy's mom opened the door to two uniformed officers. Their voices were muffled even though I was standing a few feet away, and I turned my head to hear a little better.

"...sorry to tell you...husband was found...sorry for your loss..." I gasped a little as I realized what was happening, as I witnessed Mrs. Murphy learn that her husband had taken his own life at his desk one night. A higher pitched gasp echoed my own, and I turned my head more to see a faint outline of a girl in the shadows of the hallway. She was taller, preteens maybe, and obviously eavesdropping on her mother's visitors. That explained the muffling, I realized; I was experiencing Murphy's memories of the event, not a true telling, so everything would be skewed toward her perspective.

Mrs. Murphy had stood back to allow the two officers in, and I was surprised to recognize one of them. Henry Rawlins was a stocky, dark-skinned man, and his arms and chest spoke of more than a few hours in the gym. He had also, at one time, been Collin Murphy's partner. I had never really heard the whole story, but somehow Rawlins had been busted back to beat cop while Collin Murphy had been shuffled to what would eventually be called Special Investigations. Black cats, as the detectives were known, handled the strange cases that SI was known for. Murphy's dad had been a black cat, probably lead detective just like she was, and I knew it cost her mother more than a few sleepless nights. Standing there watching Mrs. Murphy hear the worst possible news, I could understand why.

"Karrie," Rawlin's deep voice sounded disappointed, and I realized he'd seen her. The shadow in the hall stiffened for a moment before shuffling out into the living room. She was still short, maybe four and half feet tall, but she held herself like the eldest, like someone who didn't want to show weakness. She'd been caught, and she owned up to it. Instead of berating her daughter, however, Marion Murphy swallowed her own sorrow and beckoned her over.

"Come here, Karrin." Young-Murphy shuffled over, pausing for a moment to accept the half-hug Rawlins gave her. When she reached her mother, the older woman wrapped her arms around the girl's shoulders and pulled her in for a bone-crushing hug. "I'm sorry, sweetie. I'm so sorry." Tears were flowing down both women's faces, and I could feel my own building. I wondered idly if I was crying back in the real world, then pushed that thought away. I could worry about the metaphysical ramifications of a mind meld some other time. Rawlins and his partner stood stoically in the background, watching the two eldest Murphys console each other.

Before I could see any more, the world spun again. I wasn't prepared, but I managed to stay on my feet. When it cleared I was no longer standing in the Murphy home, but in a small store front. The back half of the room was covered in mats, and there were various photos and posters - all martial arts themed. This was Murphy's first dojo, Chicago Aikido Academy. Through the window I recognized the streets of Chicago, though they were vague and blurry. I guess Murphy hadn't really paid much attention to whatever happened outside the dojo.

"What's wrong, _Karrie_?" I could hear the malice in the voice of the boy who'd spoken, and I turned my head quickly to watch this memory unfold.

Murphy was twelve, maybe thirteen, and almost as tall as I knew her to be. Her hair was still pulled back into a tail, secured with a simple band, and she had a white belt around the waist of her white uniform. The boy who'd spoken also wore a white belt, but his looked more worn, stained darker with the proof of the time he'd spent learning the Art. Murphy had once told me that unless you were a black belt, then your rank didn't matter. It's why all Aikido students wore white belts. I also knew that it didn't mean squat. Murphy could wipe the floor with anybody, this punk included. I looked around idly, wondering where the Sensei was. I was sure that this kid was breaking about a billion rules, but it seemed that for the moment they were unsupervised.

"Leave me alone, Bax." What the hell kind of name is Bax? I bet his parents had names like Thurston and Cookie. What was wrong with parents these days? Of course, this was twenty years ago, I reminded myself, so Bax was probably living unhappily with a wife and kids somewhere. I could only hope.

Bax took a menacing step toward younger-Murphy, and I waited for the sparks to fly. Or, more appropriately, for Bax to fly. He towered at least a foot over her, but Murphy was used to that. She shoved him back rather ungracefully, and I realized with a lurch that she wasn't used to it. Not yet. This Murphy was just beginning to learn, just starting to collect the experiences that had turned her into a one woman beating machine. Twelve year old Murphy was awkward and undisciplined, and her attack was intercepted easily.

Bax swatted her hands to the side and reached for the front of her gi, grabbing her arm with the other hand and twisting his hips into a throw. Murphy sailed up and over his shoulder, landing with a sickening impact on the floor. Bax turned his body so he could press his knee into the side of her neck, applying enough pressure that younger-Murphy's face began to turn red as she struggled to get enough air. She thrashed a few times, but Bax was stronger. He held her down for a few more seconds, and when he did finally stand he threw a vicious kick at her ribs. She didn't cry out, but the wind was driven from her lungs and she gasped for air as Bax sneered down at her.

"You don't belong here," he told her quietly. "Go home and play with your dolls."

I was furious. Not the hey-someone-just-cut-me-off-in-traffic kind of fury. The I-want-to-bloody-this-kid's-face-in-with-a-brick kind of anger. The teen was walking right by me, and I almost reached out to grab him and give him an abject lesson in being on the receiving end, but then I stopped. This was a memory. This had already happened; I couldn't change it.

Bax had been gone only a few seconds when younger-Murphy stood and brushed herself off. She had a look in her eyes that I recognized, one that had terrified me on some instinctual level. See, when guys get mad at someone, they lash out immediately. They punch someone or they smash someone's windshield with bat or something equally dumb. But women are different. They can hold a grudge - for years if they have to. And I knew at that moment that Murphy had gotten her pay back on Bax. And I knew that _that_ was a memory I desperately wanted to see.

As if on cue, the room whirled around dizzyingly. When it stopped I was standing in a high school gymnasium, complete with cartoon mascot painted garishly on the wall between the alma mater and the fight song. In the center of the gym was a matted area, and I vaguely recognized the scene of an aikido tournament. I'd gone to one of Murphy's a while back on a rare day off. It pretty much solidified my personal vow never to really make her mad at me.

I walked closer to the mat, instinctively avoiding the crowd of people around it. I'd probably pass right through them, but it was a feeling I didn't much care for and so avoided making contact with any of them. I managed to find a spot off to the side, away from people, and waited. Bax was stretching out in the ring, and I noted that he looked a few years older. I looked around then, knowing now what I was looking for, and found her off to the side. She was speaking with an older Asian man, and I saw her nod a few times as he spoke. Finally he settled a hand on her shoulder in a fatherly gesture, and she bowed deeply to him. When she turned around, sixteen year old Murphy was in tournament mode.

Her face was devoid of emotion as she bowed onto the mat and took her place opposite Bax. Someone announced the start of the final match of the tournament, and I realized this was a showdown, Karate Kid style. Daniel LaRusso was about to face off against the Cobra Kai, and I had a feeling I knew who had won this match.

I couldn't follow any of the Japanese terms and points being awarded, but I did cheer louder than anyone when Murphy wiped the floor with the boy who stood over a foot taller than she. The points mounted and I could see Bax getting angry. Unfortunately for him that only worked to Murphy's advantage, and one misstep sent Bax sailing across the floor. Cheers erupted from the stands, and I looked up to see a large portion of Clan Murphy clapping and whistling. The match ended then, with Murphy eight points higher than her beaten opponent. Bax looked furious, but there wasn't even a hint of emotion on Murphy's face. I'd known her a long time, though, and I could see the fire in her eyes. She'd proven something to herself, and no one was going to take that away from her. I clapped along with everyone else as she was awarded the Grand Champion trophy - a monstrous award almost as tall as she was. Bax left with a twelve inch second place trophy and a bruised ego.

I took a deep breath and waited for the rush that signaled a new memory. I wondered idly if this was taking time; if my foray through her memories was wasting precious minutes as the Eater devoured her mind. I tried to extend my senses beyond this place back to the real world, but I couldn't perceive anything that could tell me how much time had passed, if any. I tried to will myself to the Eater, to confront the fae that had taken my friend, but my ability to witness memories apparently didn't extend to wandering through Murphy's mind. It was probably for the better, I guessed. Being able to slip in and out of someone's mind at will would not be an ability that earned me any favor with the Council. In fact, if they found out what I was doing, it was very likely they would execute me and Molly. I tried to ignore the pang that hit me as I realized I hadn't fully thought this through. If something went wrong, it wasn't just me who would suffer. Murphy would be lost, and without me to take responsibility for her, Molly would likely be sentenced to death.

It didn't matter now, I reasoned bitterly. I was here now, for better or worse, and I had to find a way to get through these memories in order to save Murphy. I shoved all of my doubts and fears into a dark corner of my own mind, locking them up tightly before re-focusing on my task. When my vision cleared, I was no longer standing in the high school gymnasium. I was back in the Murphy home, watching as Marion Murphy paced back and forth across the living room in front of Karrin and an older boy sitting on the couch. I suppose I couldn't really call him a boy; if I had to guess I'd say he was in his mid to late twenties. He held Karrin's hand in his own, both of them avoiding eye contact with the furious woman now bearing down on them. Mrs. Murphy opened her mouth - probably to yell at the couple - but Karrin interrupted her.

"Mother, I know you're upset. You've made that quite clear. But we can't change anything now. What we can do now is deal with this like adults." Marion stopped abruptly, staring in shock at her eldest daughter.

"Adults?" she screeched back. "Don't think that just because you ignored everything I've taught you and made a poor decision in a moment of passion that it entitles you to being treated like an adult. You are still very much a child - my child - and I will handle things as I see fit." She turned to the young man with an angry glare. "And you," she intoned evenly. "You should thank the Maker that my husband isn't alive to witness this. If he didn't shoot you outright, you'd be in jail faster than you could say 'statutory rape'."

"Mother!" Karrin tried to glare her mother into submission, but Marion had long since perfected the look.

"Do not 'Mother' me, young lady."

"Greg and I are both of legal consenting age in the state of Illinois."

Greg, I realized with a start, was Gregory Taggart, Murphy's first husband. I'd seen his picture in the obituaries a few years ago, and Murphy had seemed genuinely upset at his passing. I'd known that they'd been married before Karrin was out of high school, and I suddenly knew why. Murphy had been pregnant.

"Mrs. Murphy," Greg had stood up to stand between mother and daughter, and I wanted to give the guy a medal for bravery. "I understand that you are upset, and you have every right to be. But I love your daughter, and I would never do anything to harm her. I've asked her to marry me, but she insisted on talking to you first." At those words, Marion Murphy stopped cold and stared at her daughter.

"Is this true, Karrin?"

"Yes, Mom," Karrin looked near tears, and my heart broke a little. I'd known that Murphy had been through more than some women twice her age, but to see it actually happening was something else entirely. Right now, though, she looked every bit like the scared teenager having to make a very grown-up decision.

"I suppose you've already decided against adoption?" Karrin's eyes shot over to Greg, but he shook his head slightly. I'm not sure Mrs. Murphy caught it, but I did. They'd already had this discussion.

"Yes. This is our baby." Her hands fell to her stomach where a new life was already growing, and I had to force my head to wrap around this new concept. Murphy had been a mom-to-be, but she wasn't a mom. I could only think of a few reasons for it, and I felt my world spinning that had nothing to do with my trip down memory lane.

"Oh, Karrin." I whispered the words even as the ground tilted and I stumbled into a hospital room. It was dark save for the streetlights pouring in through the half-opened blinds. A small figure was huddled in the fetal position on the bed, and I knew without looking who it was. Sobs wracked the girl's frame, and for the second time I cursed my inability to physically touch anything around me. The urge to wrap my arms around her was overwhelming and I reached for her anyway, unable to stand by a do nothing as my best friend's world crashed down around her. My hand passed through her shoulder and her weeping didn't even falter. I stood silently as Karrin cried herself to sleep, her arms wrapped around her flat stomach in phantom agony. The yellow glow glinted off the simple band on her left hand, and I wondered bitterly where Gregory was now.

I suddenly felt like the intruder I was, witnessing these private moments that Murphy had obviously never wanted anyone to know about. I had no idea if she knew I was here, or if she was even still in possession of her own mind, but I turned away from the scene. I moved to the door, but I knew I wouldn't be able to move beyond this room until the next memory played out. I stared at the door, trying in vain to forget the heart-wracking sobs that had come from my best friend. I was actually grateful to feel the lurch of the floor and I closed my eyes and prayed for a better memory than the one I'd just left.

I watched as a bare-handed Karrin graduated from college, her features a little harder than the last time I'd seen her. The Chicago PD didn't require a full four-year degree, but Karrin Murphy had never done anything by half. When her name was called I heard a loud cheer from an entire section of the auditorium that had been commandeered by Clan Murphy. I recognized a few faces from the reunion I'd crashed, but I couldn't identify anyone but Murphy's mom and sister. Lisa was a lanky teenage girl, her face set in a perpetual scowl at having to participate in this very un-cool activity. There were two other boys sitting on the other side of Mrs. Murphy, one of them with a close-cropped haircut that screamed military. The other looked to be almost out of high school, and both had Murphy's fair complexion and features. Rawlins was there as well, though he sat a few rows away from the Murphy family.

Another graduation swam in front of me, and this time she was handed a badge along with her diploma. I realized with a shock that I had never seen Karrin so happy than at that moment. Mrs. Murphy was looking a little older, and a little more care-worn. Lisa had sprouted up and had that look of a girl transforming into a woman. Murphy's youngest brother was looking on eagerly, but the man with the buzz cut was conspicuously absent. I wondered if that had anything to do with Mrs. Murphy's anxious expression. I remembered how devastated she'd been at the news of her husband's death, and I knew that now she'd pray every day that her daughter didn't meet the same fate.

Once the newly minted officers were dismissed, there was a flood of people crowding forward to congratulate their family members. Karrin managed to squeeze her way through the crowd, finding her family easily in the back row. She was hugged and saluted by various uncles and cousins, and she returned them all with a smile and a laugh. Had she really ever been so green? The Karrin Murphy I remember meeting had already been transferred to SI and given the honored position of Director. This Murphy looked nothing like that one. This one looked eager, full of wonder, and not so jaded.

"Karrie," a deep voice boomed behind me, and I turned to find Rawlins standing there in his dress uniform. Murphy smarted up and snapped to attention, but Rawlins just laughed. "Sorry, Officer Murphy. At ease, girl." She accepted the hug from her father's friend, but I could see how uncomfortable it made her. I wondered if she thought that others believed she had been shown favor or leniency due to her heritage. I knew Murphy well enough to know that she'd want to silence those doubts immediately; it's probably what made her such a good cop. She'd earned every medal, every commendation, every word of praise on her own.

"Sergeant Rawlins," Karrin greeted formally. "How have you been?"

"Good," he replied. "Jake's getting so big. He starts school next year."

"Already?" Murphy laughed. "He'll be graduating before you know it."

"Don't even joke about that," Rawlins chuckled in response. "Hey," he took a step in closer and laid a hand on her shoulder. I saw Murphy's eyes dart around as if checking to see if anyone had noticed. "He'd be very proud of you today. Hell, he'd be proud of you every day. I know you'll make a fine officer. And for what it's worth," he added, "I'm proud of you, too." Murphy's eyes misted over, and this time she initiated the hug, lifting herself up to her toes to whisper in his ear.

"Thank you."

Rawlins wrapped her smaller frame in his arms briefly before stepping back. "I'll leave you to your family. I just wanted to say hi before you're whisked away into the busy life of a police officer." Rawlins disappeared into the crowd, no small feat for a man of his size and stature. Murphy turned back to her family, accepting more hugs and congratulations as the scene faded away.

I was glad to see a happy memory after all the heartache, and I wondered what I'd see next. I almost choked on my own spittle as a dark night rippled before me, and a very familiar bridge came into focus. I saw a tall figure silhouetted against the street lights, and I realized with a start that it was me. Another hulking figure was giving chase, and I watched as the brute swung a huge cleaver at my head. I winced at the memory of the whistling sound it had made in passing, but watching from the outside I saw just how close it had really been. I rolled once more and I was down, the troll standing over me with a manic grin. At least, that's how I remember it.

A small figure launched herself at the larger man (Murphy hadn't started believing in trolls and faeries and wizards yet), and I watched in amazement as she completely halted the troll's momentum. It gave me enough time to get up, and by the time the troll had tossed her off and whirled around, I was swinging the cleaver at him.

Even back then we'd made a pretty good team, I mused. I took a few steps closer to hear the forgotten conversation, smiling as Murphy took custody of the runaway child I had tracked down. She didn't have to let me go – the girl's parents were claiming that I'd kidnapped her, of all things – but Murphy was good people. Her world had been shaken by the troll, and the girl was safe. I was pretty sure those were the only two things that had kept me out of jail that night. I watched as I walked off with a shorter, stouter man and I spared a thought for my friend Nick. Nick was another one I lumped into the "good people" category; he spent most of his time tracking down missing children. He didn't often succeed in the hellish world we lived in, but he still helped where he could.

Murphy got a commendation for rescuing Faith Astor, but she refused any of the publicity stunts or special treatment. It was this, I learned, that had earmarked her for SI, and it wasn't long before she was promoted and transferred. But that hadn't stopped Karrin Murphy. She'd gathered her team and faced the monsters and the madness, sometimes enlisting my help, sometimes doing without. We'd been through a lot together, and I realized that Karrin Murphy was probably the best friend I'd ever had. I made a mental note to be nicer to her in the future; she'd taken a lot of crap from her co-workers and higher ups because of me, and I felt a little ashamed about taking her for granted.

When my thoughts refocused I was standing on a beach, and my heart dropped into my stomach as I realized what I was about to witness. There was nothing in this world or the next that could make me want to watch Murphy's Hawaiian Holiday with Kincaid, and I shut my eyes tightly as I forced as much of my will as I could muster into being anywhere but there. My emotions combined with my will seemed to do the trick, and I felt the world shudder beneath my feet. When I opened my eyes, I looked around at the beach in shock. It looked as though someone had rendered the whole thing in glass and then broke it. Jagged rivers of nothing stretched out in all directions, and I reached out my hand. As soon as my fingers made contact with one of the cracks, the entire scene shattered around me.

I fell forever, or at least it felt like it, before I found myself standing in the dark. There was no bone-jarring stop; one minute I was falling, the next I wasn't. I was in a forest, but there were no trees. Believe me, it was exactly as disconcerting as it sounds. I couldn't see any trees looming above me, but I could feel their presence like a heavy blanket. I spun once, trying to figure out exactly where I was. I closed my eyes and tried to concentrate on my physical body, satisfied when I could sense the coolness of my room and the warmth of the blankets around me. When I opened my eyes I was back in not-forest.

"Weird," I muttered. It sounded like I was standing in a small closet, not in a huge forest, and I chalked it up to another mystery of the mind. I turned once more to get any bearing whatsoever, and found a glimmer of light in the distance.

"Guess I go that way," I said to no one. I started walking slowly, wondering idly if Murphy could hear me. "When this is all over, Murph, you and I are going to have a talk about your mind. It's kind of creepy in here." I had a sinking feeling that the demesne around me wasn't Murphy's doing at all, but that of the creature. I shuddered to think what Murphy was experiencing, and hoped she was blissfully unaware that anything was going on.

I crashed through the not-trees into a clearing, or at least a place where a clearing would be if this were an actual forest. I gaped at the scene before me, unable to believe my eyes. Murphy was standing on the edge of the cliff, arms locked in a grapple with a…_thing._ Hey, I have a spirit of intelligence for the technical terms; this thing was just massive hulk of matter. My eyes tried to focus on it, but it didn't seem to have a form to speak of. It shifted and morphed, keeping me from getting any kind of idea of what it was.

"Murphy!" I took a few steps forward but got no closer to the battle. I pushed a little harder, exerting some of my will, but it was like I was running on a treadmill. I saw Murphy's feet slip perilously close to the edge of the cliff and my heart stopped. I wasn't entirely sure what would happen if she fell, but I guessed broken bones would be the least of her problems. I tried to move sideways, to line up a clear shot for a spell, but whatever was keeping me from moving forward was effectively immobilizing me. Murphy was on her own.

The creature rose up a few more feet, pushing against Murphy's small frame with more force. Her foot slipped and she almost fell over the precipice. Terror lanced through me, and I felt a rush of energy surround the clearing. She found her footing at the last minute and surged forward, driving the Eater back a few inches.

"Well that was weird," I commented to no one. My will seemed to have no effect here in Murphy's mind, but if when I thought about it that made sense. Karrin Murphy had routinely stood against my stubborn self, most of the time for my own good. She never had any problem whatsoever telling me when I was doing something stupid or foolish (which, if I was being honest, happened more often than I'd like), and I'd long ago given up arguing with her.

But emotions were different. Murphy and I both avoided emotions like they carried the plague, and I knew that was my key. If I could get through to her that way, to send her as much energy as I could muster, then we might have a chance. All the memories that I'd just witnessed had filled me with enough emotion to power a Lifetime Original Movie, and I gathered all of it together and projected it outward as I spoke.

"Murphy I need you to listen to me. I am not going to leave you to face this alone. Ever. I'm right here, Karrin. You are the best friend I have ever had. There isn't anyone on this entire planet I care for more than you, Murph. I've got your back." Inch by inch, she seemed to be absorbing the energy from my words and pushing the creature back. She made no indication that she could hear me, but I knew I was getting through somehow.

"You know how I got here, Murphy? Hawaii. That memory started and I realized I'd rather see anything else but that. I was so damn _jealous_, Karrin. Jealous that Kincaid got to have you, that I was too much of a coward to keep you from going. I thought it was sheer willpower that broke the cycle, but it wasn't. It was something else, something stronger." I saw the creature shrink a little, and it hit me that this wasn't actually happening. This was a representation of something happening elsewhere, of a battle of wills between Murphy and this creature. She _could_ hear me, and she was using the truth of my emotions as a supplemental battery to aid her in ousting the creature from her own mind. That was fine by me. She wanted brutal honesty; I had that in spades.

"Do you know what I was doing while you were in Hawaii? I was protecting you from Mavra. She had photos from that damned scourge raid. They would have ruined your career, your life. I did things I'm not proud of, things that the Council would execute me for if they ever found out. But I don't care. I'd do them all over again if it kept you safe. You are more important to me than my own life, Karrin."

This time it was the Eater who faltered, and Murphy's metaphysical body grew larger. I managed to stifle a snort of laughter at the realization that she was taller than the creature now. I knew it was only a representation, but even the thought of Murphy _imagining_ herself being taller than anything was pretty funny to me.

"Come on, Murphy. You're stronger than this. Hell's bells, you're the strongest person I know. Remember Bax? I wanted to pound that kid into the ground for what he did to you. But you did it yourself. And you can do it again." The memory of twelve year old Murphy being beaten and bullied angered me again, and the creature let out a howl of rage. "That's it, Murphy. Just a little more." The combat settled into a stalemate as the Eater redoubled its efforts. Each combatant pushed against the other, but neither could gain or lose any ground. I took a step closer but didn't, concentrating the entirety of my will on the woman before me. I knew what she needed now, and I shoved all of my doubts aside and took a breath.

"I love you, Karrin. I love you." With a final cry of outrage, metaphysical-Murphy dropped and twisted her hips, grabbing the creature somewhere on its upper torso and executing a perfect throw. The creature shrieked in surprise as it sailed up and over Murphy's shoulders, bouncing off the ground once before disappearing over the edge of the cliff. In the silence that followed Murphy dropped to her knees, staring numbly into the darkness.

I sensed the shift before I felt it, and I braced myself as I was propelled into the nothingness. I imagined it was probably like being on a runaway mine car, and my stomach lurched as I hurtled through the dark. Finally everything stopped, but without a light of any kind I had no idea where I'd ended up. I tried to look around, and I realized with a jolt that it wasn't simply the absence of light that kept me from seeing. There was just nothing around me. Had I been too late? After all I'd seen, everything I'd confessed, had the Eater won after all?

"The hell it did," Murphy's voice startled me, and I whirled around. White light flooded the area around me, and I squinted against it as she walked up to me. She was dressed casually in jeans and an old Led Zeppelin t-shirt, and her blonde hair was pulled back into a tail.

"You won," I stated dumbly, and she snorted.

"Observant as ever, Dresden," she returned snidely. "Well, I suppose you should say _we_ won. You did help. A little." Her hands were shoved into her pockets, and she looked up at me with a strange expression. Well, strange for Murphy. She looked scared.

"You alright?"

"What the hell was that thing?" She looked over her shoulder as if expecting it to be behind her, and I resisted the urge to reach out and hold her. She'd had her head messed with before, and it had left some emotional scars on her. I wondered if this one would haunt her dreams as well, and I suddenly wanted to hunt this thing down and destroy it for good. I managed to suppress this urge as well.

"The Eater," I told her. "Nasty fae thing. Won't be bothering you again, I think." At least I hoped not. I wasn't sure how many more radical honesty sessions we could survive. Murphy just nodded once, accepting my explanation, and looked around. She _had_ heard everything, I knew that now. It was in the way she shifted her weight from one foot to the other, in the flush of her cheeks that was absolutely adorable (I kept this to myself; honesty is not the same thing as stupidity), in the way she didn't quite look at me.

"Harry…" she licked her lips, and my eyes were drawn to the motion instinctively.

"Yeah Murph?" I shuffled a little closer, leaning down a little to look into her eyes. I wasn't exactly sure if a soulgaze could happen, but I looked away after a few seconds just in case.

"Get the hell out of my head." She placed her hands on my chest and gave me a gentle shove, but I flew backward like she'd hit me with a wrecking ball. My limbs flailed comically, and I let out a huff of breath as I opened my eyes.

I was back in my bedroom, my body stretched out along Murphy's. Her body had curled into mine, and we were lying face to face on the bed covers. Her left leg had somehow nudged its way between mine, and her left hand had wrapped itself around my waist and found purchase in my shirt. My right arm was still draped over her, but my hand was lying on the pillow behind her head. If anyone walked in on us right now, they wouldn't suspect for a second that I'd just completed an extremely complex ritual and saved Murphy from a nasty monster. In fact, they'd probably slam the door close and apologize profusely for interrupting.

For a few moments, I let my mind wander through a multitude of interruptible images before I felt Murphy's body stirring beneath my arm. I moved my legs back enough to dislodge hers from between them and I let my right arm fall to my side as her eyelids fluttered. I looked down at her and gave her a lopsided smirk.

"Good morning, Sleeping Beauty." Her blue eyes were unfocused for a moment, as if still in the throes of that horrible creatures' control, but I saw the moment the life returned to them. They focused on me for a moment before glancing down at her traitorous arm still gripping my shirt intimately. She let go immediately, recoiling from me just a bit.

I didn't say anything for a while, unsure of how much she had been aware in there. I knew if she started acting weird that I'd have to do some damage control, but so far she seemed content with lying there beside me. That normally would be a warning sign in itself, but she'd just been through a traumatic ordeal, even by our standards. Finally she took a shuddering breath and didn't quite look in my eyes in that way we'd both long since perfected.

"What happened, Harry?"

"Uh…" _Eloquent as ever, Dresden_. "It's kind of a long story."

"Well you can start by explaining why you and I are in your bed. Together. _Cuddling_."

"Uh…"

She rolled her eyes and slid back away from me, sending the blanket to the floor as she stood. She swayed slightly, and I jumped up to steady her in case she fell. That earned me a fully fledged Murphy glare and I backed off, nearly falling back onto the bed in my haste to do so. There was very little in this world that scared me more than an angry Murphy.

"It's not…we didn't…hell's bells," I raked a hand through my hair and tried to figure out the best way to explain it all to her. She obviously didn't remember anything that had happened, and I wasn't sure if that was a good thing or not. "Nothing happened, Murph. I swear. Something attacked you, do you remember that?"

She frowned at me for a moment, then shook her head. "I remember getting a call from a uniform. He said it was something up SI's alley, so I gathered some of my men and called Thomas. I figured at the very least he could contact you if it wound up being something we needed you for." She paused then and looked around. "I guess it qualified?"

"Yeah, it did. That was last night, Murphy. You don't remember anything else?" She stared at me for a moment, not really seeing me, then shook her head.

"No. Do I want to know?"

I shrugged. "It's pretty straight-forward. Something attacked you, knocked you out, and I had to rescue you." She punched me in the shoulder and I let out a grunt of pain.

"I'm not some damsel in distress, Dresden." She was suppressing a smile as I rubbed the offended spot on my arm with my good hand, and I couldn't help but reply.

"Damsel, no. Distress, yes. You did most of the work, though. I just helped." She seemed satisfied with this answer, and she nodded once before taking a deep breath.

"Thanks, Harry."

I shrugged again and dropped my hand to my side. Apparently my brain was still in "radical honesty" mode, because the next words out of my mouth shocked us both. "I'm glad you're alright, Karrin. I'd be lost without you."

She sucked in a harsh breath, the only admonishment she'd offer for the breach of our silent arrangement. We'd both agreed that getting involved, being together, would be too complicated, too dangerous. And it would probably be the best thing that ever happened to either of us. For both our sakes I kept that last bit to myself. I'd had enough candor for one day, and my stomach was protesting loudly. Murphy sighed in resignation as she walked to the door. I felt the moment she crossed the circle, the forces contained within dissipating as she broke the boundary.

"Come on," she said. "Get dressed and we'll go to Mac's. I'm buying and _you_ are going to tell me exactly what happened." Thomas and Mouse were waiting on the other side of the door when she opened it, and she scratched behind Mouse's ears as she looked at me expectantly over her shoulder.

"You had me at 'Mac's'," I half joked before moving to fish my jeans from the pile in the closet. Thomas seemed a bit confused at her abrupt recovery, but when Murphy included him in the invite he grabbed his keys and Mouse's leash. As I watched my brother and my best friend walk out the door, I decided I would tell her everything…eventually. Today, though, we'd all have to settle for mostly-truth. I even managed to almost convince myself that it really was best for everyone and not just me being a coward.

Almost.

* * *

Fin. Please take a few seconds to let me know if you loved it or hated it. Ta.

PS - Go check out my tv-verse Dresden fics as well, if you liked the show. It's really interesting trying to keep the characters separate from each other.


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